Poetic Justice
by AStitchedUpHeart
Summary: 'It's over for you, but not for me. I saw them die, all of them: Stewart, Emma, Laura, Owen. I can't get them out of my mind! And it's all my fault' Orla Quirke's battle is more terrifying than most. This is her struggle to get over it.


_**Written for Fanfiction: School of Imagination and Creativity, Maths Assessment 2, Camp Potter: Archery, Week 2, Colours Competition: Magenta (positive), the Quidditch Position Competition: Beater, the Weasley-Potter-Prewett Challenge: Harry Potter and the Hogwarts Classes Category Competition: Muggle Studies**_

**Warnings: Contains mild gore, torture, mild substance abuse, extreme self harm and suicide.**

**Poetic Justice**

'If you are of age, you may stay.'

'We have to stay,' Orla said with urgency to Stewart, who was sitting by her on the Ravenclaw table. 'Emma, Laura and Owen too.'

'We're not of age, Orla,' Stewart replied, as they stood and were ushered out of the Great Hall.

'I know, but we've been betas all year in Dumbledore's Army. Now's our chance to prove to them that we belong there, and not just in the planning procedures. We'll all stick together, have each other's back... we'll be fine,' she implored, whilst keeping her voice down, so no one else would hear. Stewart took a deep breath and nodded.

'Ok... but we won't separate. Not for anything.'

'No, we're together in this. Owen!' she called out towards the back of the boy who was entering the Room of Requirement. He turned and walked towards the pair, with Laura and Emma flanking him.

'Yes?'

'Stewart and I are staying... for the battle. We thought it would be our time to show to Neville that we truly belong in Dumbledore's Army.'

'We'll stay too, we were just discussing it on the way up here. We can't leave now, we owe it to them at least. How many times have they taken the blame so we won't get hurt? Too many,' Owen said with passion. He quickly ducked out of the line and scurried around the corner where nobody could see him. Orla and the others followed, checking over their shoulders every few steps in case anyone saw them.

'Ok, we need to think where we should be stationed. We don't want to be backed into a corridor. So I think, unfortunately, that the best place for us will be in the grounds. We'll all have each other's backs and we have the advantage of being able to see everything that is going on,' Stewart said, as he marched down one of the secret passageways he had discovered during the year.

'Yes, Sir,' joked Orla, though her smile started to fade as they approached the grounds. It was starting to sink in that they would be up against people who not only knew more magic than them, but knew magic that they wouldn't even dare of using. She took a breath and resolved herself, she told herself this was what they had been preparing for all year. She couldn't back down now.

'We're here... Good luck, guys. Remember, stay together and we'll be fine,' asserted Owen, with a confidence in his voice that Orla knew was fake. They stood back to back with their wands facing outwards.

The battle didn't start slowly, it came all at once. What was once a fairly peaceful night, came to life in the space of a few seconds. The flashes of colour were beginning to make Orla feel dizzy, and she hadn't even cast a spell yet. She looked around at the faces of her classmates and wondered if she'd ever see them again. A streak of green flew past her face and she instinctively ducked out of the way, focussing all of her energy of the direction it came from. An idea suddenly struck her.

'Guys! Disillusion yourself! It'll hide us!' she shouted as she prepared the spell in her mind. When she felt the sudden feeling of being doused in water, she relaxed a little, knowing that she was out of sight for now. What she forgot was that she was the only member of her Transfiguration class to be able to complete the spell, she turned around in fear and saw Stewart, Owen, Emma and Laura all struggling with the spell. What was worse, was the fact that two large figures were walking slowly towards them, wands raised. She went to scream a warning, but a red light struck her torso and she fell backwards completely still.

"_It was only a body-bind jinx_" she thought, as she lay motionless on the ground. Her relief, however, didn't last long as she noticed the figures now even nearer to her friends. She tried to scream again but was blocked by the forces of the spell on her, all she could do was watch, as each of her friends were body-bound as well.

''Ere, Crabbe. See wha' they're sendin' to figh' us? Bleedin' kids,' one of the large figures growled. The other laughed, and high-fived his partner with a sadistic smile on his face.

'Let's 'ave a bit o' fun with these. Show 'em who runs this place. Let's start with you, my pretty,' he said as he leered at Emma. From her point on the floor, Orla could see the terrified look in her friends eyes. She wanted to look away, but the jinx refrained her from doing that.

The figure, Crabbe, muttered a spell. Orla couldn't quite hear what he said but it seemed to not be working. As soon as she thought that, it looked like Emma was about to be sick; her eyes started bulging and it looked like she was trying to swallow down something. After a couple more minutes of this, her mouth opened and something long and slippery cascaded from it. Shock coursed through Orla when she realised what it was: her intestines. She could see it now, the ribbed length of tubing, and at the end she could see the appendix. She wanted to throw up, but she couldn't. The bile stuck in her stomach, making her feel ill. She prayed that the couple would stop, but they weren't finished there.

'I 'fink this ough' to stop now. Don' you, Goyle?' Crabbe asked. He turned his face to the side, as if he was watching with morbid interest.

'Righ'. Sectumsempra Locali!' he shouted over and over as his washed slashed through the air. Emma choked and blood began to seep from a wound in her neck. Still, the Death Eater cast the curse. With each shout, the wound in her neck became deeper and deeper, until suddenly there was no more flesh to cut through and her head rolled off her shoulders. The pair gave a synchronised shout of achievement and turned to face Stewart, whose eyes had shrunken back into his head from terror. His face was still the same mask of fear as when he was body-bound, but Orla knew that could he move, it would be screwed up even more.

'Hmm. Wha' shall we do with this one?' asked Crabbe, with a voice laced with mockery.

'Le' me,' replied Goyle. He turned on the boy, and with a crazed look in his eyes he advanced.

'Make it worthwhile,' hissed Crabbe as he watched his partner with genuine interest.

'Crucio maxima!' No noise escaped from Stewart, but Orla could see the pain in his eyes; his limbs were slowly being forced backwards. Goyle kept up the curse and watched as both his arms and legs were forced into extremely unnatural positions. Stewart's limbs kept on moving at a steady pace until suddenly, there was a loud crunch and his arms and legs went limp. His eyes rolled up into his head, and his head went limp also.

'I don' 'fink so. You can feel this. Ennervate!'

Orla watched as Stewart kept on falling unconscious, only to be woken by Crabbe every time it happened.

'Poor boy! Does tha' 'urt? Your arms don' seem to be workin' now, you don' really need 'em do you? Diffindo!' Orla watched in absolute horror as Stewart's arms and legs were severed away from his body, it was even worse than watching Emma; at least she died straight away. Stewart was still alive when the pair turned on Owen.

'I've got jus' the idea, Crabbe,' said Goyle, as he ripped the shirt off Owen.

"_Oh, no!_" Orla thought, she couldn't believe what was just about to happen. Before she could process that thought, Goyle had his wand raised at the young boy in front of him.

'Flagrate!' he shouted, as he moved his wand in a V-shape. Orla watched as a giant V burnt itself onto the chest of Owen. It blistered immediately, and pus began to run down onto his trousers. 'Tha's for remindin' you tha' you chose the wron' side.'

Tears began to trickle down Owen's face, an action that didn't go unnoticed by Crabbe or Goyle.

''Ere, Goyle. The boy's cryin'! Does tha' 'urt? Does it burn? This'll make it betta,' Crabbe growled. He grabbed Owen's mouth and wrenched it open, he forced his wand into it. 'Aguamenti,' he whispered as a jet of water shot down the Hufflepuff's throat. Orla heard a sickening gurgling sound before silence.

'Ha,' cried Goyle. 'One more left. Wha' shall we do with you?'

'I'm gettin' bored now, Goyle. How abou' we kill 'er righ' off?'

'Yeah. There'll be plen'y more inside. Reducto!'

Orla could do nothing as one of her best friends splattered all over her; Laura had exploded into thousands of pieces. The pair lumbered off congratulating themselves. All she could do was wait until the body-bind jinx wore off.

~o~

As soon as she could move again, Orla rolled over onto her front and threw up everything in her stomach. The parts of her best friends were still just behind her, not that she turned to look. She groaned and stumbled to her feet, she swayed slightly before walking back to the castle.

She made it to the Entrance Hall before something fell from her hair, she grabbed it and stared intently. It was a fragment of brain. She screamed, threw it aside and felt more bile rise up in her throat. It came up too fast to stop, she leant over the side of the steps and expelled it all over the grass.

Shaking, she stood and saw Seventh-Year Padma Patil hurrying over towards her. 'Padma!' Orla cried. 'I was so scared! I thought I was going to die!' She sobbed into the older girls side, not even daring to bring herself to talk about her friends.

'Shh Orla, it's over now. It's all over.'

'It's over for you, but not for me. I saw them die, all of them: Stewart, Emma, Laura, Owen. I can't get them out of my mind! And it's all my fault!'

'It's not your fault-'

'But it is; I made them come back! And now they're all dead!' she shouted with hysteria.

'Honestly, Orla, it's not your fault. Come on, let's get you a Calming Draught,' Padma said as she steered Orla towards the dungeon. It took all of Orla's strength to follow and not collapse on the floor and cry until she couldn't anymore.

~o~

_These wounds won't seem to heal,  
This pain is just too real,  
There's just too much that time cannot erase._

~o~

A scream awoke Orla, it was a second before she realised it was her own. It was the same every night, the same nightmare: the faces of Stewart, Emma, Laura and Owen would circle her, telling her it was all her fault that they were dead. It would carry on, with the faces spiralling closer and closer until their faces exploded and splattered all over Orla. It was then that she'd awake with a scream.

The nights were the hardest for her, she'd cope through the day by sneaking Calming Draughts whenever she could. She still saw their faces, but it didn't affect her so much. It was during the night that they'd wear off, that her mind was open to whatever horrors it could come up with. Even a large dose of potion before she went to bed wouldn't keep her calm until the morning.

She'd had enough, surely anything would be better than the guilt she had, pushing down on her from all sides. Why shouldn't she feel the physical pain that they did? It must be better than the mental pain she'd been experiencing for the previous two weeks. Physical pain stopped when you couldn't feel it anymore, the pain in her mind would never leave her. Not even when she was unconscious.

'It's all my fault,' she whispered as, once again, tears fell down her cheeks. 'Why should I live, when all my friends are dead? Why was it me who had to see it all? Where's the justice?'

Orla picked up her wand from her bed-side table and conjured a small, shiny, black knife which she set down on the bed next to her. She took a deep breath and pointed her wand towards her wrist.

'Flagrate,' she murmured. A shiny burn mark appeared over the pale blue line of her artery. She gasped, and immediately sucked on the burn, trying to get her saliva to alleviate the pain. The level didn't decrease. Still with her wrist in her mouth, she pointed her wand to her left leg, just under her knee.

D...Diffindo.' A gash appeared at the top of the lower leg, it deepened until the whole of it fell away from the rest of her body. Orla screamed in pain but quickly pointed her wand to the other leg, knowing that she wouldn't stay conscious for many more minutes.

'Reducto,' she whispered, forcing her body to go past its pain limit. The bottom half of her lower leg exploded, blood splattered on to her face. She didn't wipe it away though. Instead, she licked her lips, relishing the taste of her own pain. She could feel her mind slipping away from her, but she wasn't finished yet. With some of the last ounces of energy her body could produce, she picked up the little knife and sliced through the burn mark on her wrist. Her hand jerked and her wand fell to the floor, she fell back against the pillow and with her last movement, she placed a smile on her face.

"_Justice..._" she thought.

The battle had claimed another victim.

**A.N - The lyrics belong to Evanescence, I'm just using them for my own purposes. **


End file.
